Love of a Marine (The Wounded Warriors Series Book 2)

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Love of a Marine (The Wounded Warriors Series Book 2) Page 21

by Patty Campbell

Cluny pushed his chair back. “Let’s help with the cleanup first.” He reached for his plate.

  “No,” Marla said, “We’ll do this. Take those stink bombs and stroll over to the park. You can keep an eye on the kids and ease Graciella’s concern. Take Declan, the stroller’s in the back of the truck. Keep the smoke away from him!”

  Dwayne stood at attention and saluted. “Yes, ma’am!”

  “Oh, stop it.” Marla embraced her husband. “When did I get so bossy?”

  He hugged her hard. “Is that a trick question?”

  She put her hands on his chest and pushed him away. “Get out of here.”

  Cluny lifted Declan’s carrier and headed out. “Better make a quick exit before you venture into that mine field, Gunny. I need you to be in good shape for baseball tomorrow.” He winked at Marla and threw a kiss to Graciella.

  The red ball of the sun sank behind the mountain ridge in the cloudless sky. As it usually did during summer in California, the temperature dropped sharply. Cluny, Santos, and Graciella stood on his front lawn and waved when the Dempsey’s truck backed out of the long driveway. Cluny burst with warm contentment as he embraced them.

  “Let’s dust those bikes off and oil the chains before we put them away, sailor. They haven’t been ridden in a while and need some TLC. I usually take better care of my stuff.”

  Santos stretched to his full height. “Grampa showed me how to oil the chain. He said if you take care of things they last almost forever.” He looked at his mother. “Is Grampa coming to baseball tomorrow?”

  “You remember what we told you? The police officers thought it would be best if we didn’t visit for a while in case Jamal is watching them.”

  “Would Jamal hurt them?”

  “No, I don’t think so,” she winced and glanced at Cluny. “He was looking for Krystal. She’s left L.A. for a job out of town, so hopefully he’s given up on trying to find her. I bet Grampa will be there for the season opener.”

  Cluny rested his hand on Santos’s head. “Let’s get to those bikes, pal. I want you to get a good night’s sleep so you can do your best at tryouts tomorrow.” He nodded in the direction of the garage.

  “I’m not very good at sports,” Santos mumbled.

  “You’ll do just fine. It’s going to be a fun summer, trust me.” He nodded to Graciella. “We won’t be long, baby.”

  “Take your time. I’m going to make up my bed. Those new sheets are ready to come out of the dryer by now. I hope you’ve got an extra blanket somewhere, Cluny.”

  “Check the top shelf in the laundry room.”

  He and Santos wheeled the bikes through the side door in the garage. Cluny snapped on the overhead lights and handed the boy a couple of clean rags. “You start wiping them down and I’ll fill my oil can.”

  Santos paid close attention to him as he oiled the chains and tested them. “That’s the way Grampa and Chief do it.” He swiped up a drop of oil on the garage floor. “Only Grampa puts down newspaper before he starts.”

  “That’s a great idea. We’ll do it that way next time.”

  “Macfearsome?”

  “Yeah, buddy?”

  “What’s in that big safe over there in the corner?”

  Cluny hesitated. This could be a touchy subject with the boy’s mother, but he thought it was better to speak truthfully to children. “I keep my gun collection in there. Nobody can open it except me. That’s why it’s called a safe.”

  Santos sucked in a breath and his eyes widened. “You got guns? Why?”

  “Amber’s dad and I like to go hunting during the season. We’ve been hunting ever since we were in school in Wyoming. His mother has a big freezer with bison and elk meat. They eat a lot of game at the ranch. But, mostly we like target shooting.”

  “I think it’s sad to kill things.” The look on the boy’s face touched Cluny’s heart.

  He nodded and laid his hand on Santos’s shoulder. “Humans eat meat unless they’re vegetarians. All meat comes from some animal that died in order for the meat to be on the table. As long as the killing is done in a humane way, I don’t have a problem with it.”

  Santos lowered his head and sighed. “But the wild animals are so special.”

  “I agree, son, but hunting wild game helps keep a healthy balance of nature between the predators and the prey. State Fish and Game hands out hunting permits every year for a certain number of animals. It’s a wise way to manage wildlife. It would be very sad if they slowly starved to death in the winter because there wasn’t enough fodder.”

  “I s’pose.” Santos didn’t look convinced.

  “That’s why they reintroduced wolves into Yellowstone so many years ago. Man’s attempt to control the growing population of grazing animals.”

  “Did it work?”

  “The jury’s still out. One thing they didn’t count on was how fast the wolf packs might multiply. A lot of farmers and ranchers are upset because many packs expanded beyond the park boundary into Wyoming, Montana, and Idaho. They started killing cattle and sheep. It will take a long time to see whether it was the right move.”

  Cluny thought it best to change the subject. He should discuss the matter with Graciella before talking about it anymore. “We’re done here. What say you get your shower and into your pajamas? We’ll relax and watch some TV or a movie before you hit the sack.”

  “I am kind of tired, Macfearsome. I got a hangover from the campout.”

  Cluny laughed at the child’s innocent use of hangover. He knew hangovers first hand and it was so much worse than lack of sleep. Those days were gone forever, thank God. And thank Gunny. He doubted he’d have been able to get clean of it on his own.

  He handed a rag to Santos. “We can wash the oil off at the sink in the laundry room. I’ve got some solvent that’ll do the trick. I got a hunch your mom wouldn’t look favorably on a couple of grease monkeys walking in on her.”

  Santos grinned and nodded. He wiped his hands and handed the rag back. “She hates dirty hands. Do you have a brush? She’ll inspect my fingernails real close.”

  Later the three of them reclined on the couch, Santos in the middle, and watched How It’s Made. Santos’s eyes grew heavy and his head drooped against Cluny’s shoulder.

  Cluny peeked at his watch. “It’s almost eleven. No wonder he’s out.”

  Instead of answering, Graciella smiled fondly at her son and brushed a finger on his cheek.

  Carefully extricating himself, Cluny made to get up from the couch. “I’ll carry him to bed.”

  “No, it’s better if he walks. Then if he wakes up later he’ll remember where he is and how he got there.” She leaned close to Santos. “It’s time for bed, sweetie. We’re going to your new bedroom across the hall from mine.”

  She stood and tugged his arms. Santos groaned getting to his feet, and she led him down the hall. Cluny leaned on the bedroom doorway and watched as she pulled back the blankets and urged him onto the bed then covered him. A small nightlight Cluny hadn’t seen before glowed from an outlet on the wall opposite the bed.

  Graciella kissed her son goodnight. Her action triggered a memory in Cluny of his mother kissing him goodnight. He was younger than Santos when she died, but it seemed like yesterday. His heart squeezed painfully in his chest. He backed into the hall and waited for her to leave the room.

  “Querido? Is something wrong?” She gazed at him with her beautiful chocolate eyes and laid her hand on his cheek.

  Cluny sighed deeply and gave her a reassuring smile. “No, baby, I’m fine, but watching you with your boy reminded me of the many times my mother kissed me goodnight when I was a kid.” He embraced her. “You’re a good mom. I love you so much.”

  She rested her head on his chest. “Your heart is galloping.” When she raised her face to him her eyes were damp. “Amo-te.” She brushed her lips against his.

  Santos called through the open doorway, “Are you kissing Macfearsome goodnight, Mama?”

  “Go to sle
ep, pal.” Cluny kissed Graciella back. He took a sidestep, closed the bedroom door, and deepened the kiss. He slowly walked her backward in the direction of his bedroom.

  “No you don’t, Macfearsome. I decided on your punishment.”

  He waggled his eyebrows and grinned. “Yeah?”

  “Yeah.” She stepped away and entered the newly finished bedroom. “You’re sleeping alone tonight.” She grinned and closed the door in his face.

  Well, hell.

  He shoved his hands in his pockets and looked down when Queen leaned heavily against his leg. “It’s just you and me again, Queenie.” He scrubbed the top of her head with his fingers then walked through the house locking doors and turning off lights.

  Hell.

  His shoulders shook with a silent chuckle.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  After midnight

  “Medic! Where’s the fucking medic!” Cluny’s scream shattered the quiet. “Help!”

  Graciella shot out of bed and didn’t realize she was standing until she felt the cool floorboards under her bare feet. She opened her bedroom door.

  Santos, owly-eyed in the dim hallway, was clearly jarred by what they’d heard. He took a couple of steps in the direction of Cluny’s bedroom.

  Graciella grabbed his arm. “No. Don’t go in there.”

  “But, he needs help.” He tugged against her hand. “What’s wrong?”

  “Shiiit!” Thrashing sounds emanated from the bedroom at the end of the hall. “No! Stop! I can’t…I can’t move! Somebody help!”

  Santos turned stricken eyes to her. “Mama, we have to help him.”

  She held fast. “He’ll be all right. Queen’s in there, she’ll help him.” Her heart pounded so hard in her throat, she’d barely been able to say the words. The skin on her scalp tightened painfully.

  Queen barked and a light came on in Cluny’s bedroom. The screaming stopped.

  “Can we go in now?” Santos pleaded.

  “No. Cluny warned me to stay away if he had a nightmare. He doesn’t want us to come in.” She fought against the instinct to rush to his side.

  “But why, Mama?”

  “Because he’s not fully awake and it takes a while for him to get his bearings.” This was far worse than she’d imagined. Cluny’d warned her, but now she had a better understanding of what he’d been trying to tell her. Her heart cracked for the man she loved and what he had to deal with.

  She expressed a pent-up sigh and hugged Santos. “It’s quiet now. Go back to bed.” She turned him in the direction of his bedroom.

  “Can I stay with you?” He clung to her waist. “I’ll never go back to sleep.”

  “Of course.” She pushed open her bedroom door. “Snuggle in with me.” Graciella led him to her bed and threw back the blanket. He crawled across the bed and lay down on his side facing the opposite wall. She got in beside him and gently pulled him close. “Don’t worry about Cluny. Queen will help him get back to sleep, and in the morning he’ll be fine.”

  “I feel so sad soldiers have nightmares when they come home. I like Macfearsome a lot, mostly because he’s always so funny and happy. It’s not fair.”

  No, it wasn’t fair, but so little of life was fair. It wasn’t fair that her son had been deprived of a father. It wasn’t fair that Amber’s father got his leg blown off. It wasn’t fair that so many servicemen had suffered grievous wounds to body and soul.

  “All we can do is love him, Santos. Make sure he knows we don’t think less of him because of his struggle.”

  “I think more of him, Mama. I want to stay here forever. I want Macfearsome to be my dad.”

  Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes at his innocence. Children looked at life in such an uncomplicated way. It was so simple to them. Could it be as simple as he’d said? No. She had her demons and so did Cluny. She couldn’t protect Santos from life no matter how hard she tried. It was time for her to be more open with him, allow him to experience more of life. He was softhearted, but also smart and strong.

  “I love Cluny, sweetheart, but I don’t know if we could ever be a family.”

  Santos squeezed her hand. “But we could try, couldn’t we?”

  “Yes, we could try.” She kissed his head. “Now see if you can go to sleep. Baseball tryouts are tomorrow afternoon.”

  * * *

  Saturday morning

  Graciella put the egg carton in the refrigerator. Cluny’s footsteps pounded up the driveway. In a moment she heard him open the back door, and Queen’s toenails clicked on the tile floor followed by loud lapping at her water dish.

  “What’s cookin’?” He embraced her from behind and kissed her beneath her ear. His hard body pressed her back and his strong arms held her tight.

  “French toast. Santos’s most favorite.”

  He chuckled into her hair. “Everything is your kid’s most favorite.”

  “Yes. It’s nice to cook for someone who’s easy to please.”

  “I’m easy to please.” His big hands cupped her breasts.

  “Yes you are, querido.” She turned in his arms. “Good morning.”

  Cluny’s kiss was warm and soft. He placed a hand on either side of her face and gazed into her eyes then dived in for another.

  Thrilling warmth coursed through her body and landed heavy in her lower torso. This man could melt stone with a kiss. She pressed herself against him wondering if she’d ever tire of his physicality and how it affected her.

  “I can’t get enough of you, baby.” He placed a hand on her bottom and pressed her close.

  “You read my mind, amor.” She pushed back against his hand and attempted to step away.

  He held her close. “I’m not done yet,” he murmured into her mouth and pressed his erection against her. “God, I’ll never be done.”

  “Good morning, Macfearsome.”

  They jerked apart. Graciella was glad they were on the other side of the island. Her cheeks grew hot at the thought her little boy was spared from seeing the state of Cluny’s physical arousal. Arousal that disappeared as quickly as it had appeared.

  Cluny’s hand went down below the counter to adjust his sweat pants. “Good morning, sleepyhead. Mama’s making French toast. Your most favorite.” He winked at her son then patted her bottom.

  Santos’s face brightened. “Yay. I bet Queen likes it too.”

  Cluny dragged a large bag of kibble from the pantry. “Maybe so, but because we want her to be around a long time, she’ll have her usual breakfast. Hand me her food dish, will ya, buddy?”

  Graciella fanned her face and jabbed Cluny in the ribs with her elbow as he brushed past her while her son’s back was turned. She gave him a stern, behave-yourself look when he made a sudden, fake lunge in her direction. It was frightening how much she loved him in that moment. An unwelcome wave of insecurity threatened to invade her, but she fought hard against it, silently repeating Marla’s mantra, don’t borrow trouble, don’t borrow trouble.

  Cluny took the big stainless steel dish proffered by Santos, set it on the sink, and dumped a heaping pile of kibble in it. He looked over his shoulder as he set the pan on the floor. “Do I have time to shower?”

  “Not unless you want a cold breakfast. Both of you sit down. I have everything ready.”

  Santos and Cluny grinned and dragged chairs from the table then flopped into them. She set a carafe of hot chocolate in front of Santos. “This is very hot. Let Cluny pour for you.” Returning to the table with the coffee pot, she set it on a large hot pad next to Cluny then grabbed three mugs she’d left warming on the stovetop.

  Cluny smiled up into her eyes. “Shall I pour for you too, sweetheart?”

  “Yes, please.” She opened the oven, put on a mitt and slid out a large platter of French toast and sausage. Queen wasn’t alone sniffing the air when she carried it to the table. Cluny and Santos wore identical big-eyed hungry faces. She had to laugh at the two men she loved so much.

  When breakfast was nearly fin
ished, Santos took a swallow and asked, “Did you have a real bad dream last night, Macfearsome?”

  Cluny’s eyes met Graciella’s. She saw hesitation in the sudden cloudiness of his usually bright blue gaze. She lowered a hand beneath the table and squeezed his knee then made a barely perceptible tilt of her chin.

  For a moment Cluny didn’t answer. He wiped his mouth on a napkin and put it back in his lap. “Uh, yeah, it was one of the bad ones. Did I scare you?” The regret in his face when he spoke the words so painfully crushed her heart.

  Santos raised his eyebrows and bobbed his head. “Kinda. I wanted to go to your room and help you, but Mama said Queen would fix it. What did you dream about? The war?”

  Graciella tamped down the urge to change the subject. Did he really need to know the details? Then she remembered the vow she’d made to herself to ease off shielding him from real life issues. “Maybe Cluny would rather not talk about it, son.”

  He raised a hand. “No, that’s OK. It’s a hateful nightmare that I have a lot. I’ll tell you what I can, but remember it’s not real, it’s a dream. You probably have a bad dream once in a while, right? Then when you wake up and realize you’re safe in your own bed it goes away.”

  He exchanged a glance with Graciella that reassured her he’d only tell Santos as much as he thought he could handle.

  Santos nodded gravely. “Uh, huh. I don’t say bad words though. Mama wouldn’t like it.”

  Cluny chuckled. “I’ll try to remember that.” He took a sip of his coffee. “The dream takes place in a hot, dirty, smoky place I don’t recognize. Bad things are happening around me, but I can’t hear. For some reason I’m deaf and paralyzed, and then I see Gunny Dempsey lying on the ground. His mouth is moving and he’s reaching for me. I try to get up, but I can’t move. I can’t help him. The next thing I know, Queen is standing or lying on my chest barking and licking my face.”

  Eyes big, Santos asked, “Is that when you wake up and turn on the light?”

  “Queen turns on the light.”

 

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